


Cost of a Crown

by cakeengland



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Assassination Plot(s), Don't copy to another site, Multi, Neglectful Parenting, Royalty AU, dante trish and vergil are royalty, eva and sparda are alive and happy, its my au and i get to choose the die, phantom is trans and poly, poly marriage, trish does not know how to human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-11 00:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20537534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeengland/pseuds/cakeengland
Summary: It was a simple enough job, or so Trish thought. All she had to do was assassinate the human prince and she could return home.Memories of the past quickly resurface, and Trish finds herself dragged into the world of her father's underhanded dealings and the consequences of them. She quickly learns that the life of a human royal is far from what she anticipated. With the help of the playfully charming prince Dante and mysteriously enchanting mercenary Lady, will Trish be able to thrive, or be swept away under the pressure?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my dear friend Vic. Without you and the others, this fic never would have happened.

Mundus, King of Hell, was widely known as a terrifying and ruthless leader. His legions were second to none, able to cut down anything that stood in their way. The demon king’s reign was built upon blood and torment, and he liked it that way. After all, he believed that if his subjects were to fear him, none would dare revolt against him, and, well, he wasn’t wrong.

So yes, Mundus was cruel, uncaring and without compassion. It was no surprise that a heart like that was incapable of love, only tyranny and bloodlust. If regular devils never cried, the demon king behaved in a way that indicated even the mere suggestion of tears would cause a severe allergic reaction. In short, he was the worst of the worst, and it was no surprise that he ruled alone.

It was these traits that made the case of Hell’s princess, Trish, so curious. A creation of Mundus, the young devil was known all throughout the Underworld, yet precious few had seen her in the flesh. In fact, she may as well have been non-existent, just a rumour, for all the people who had met her and known it: Mundus, of course, and his four highest lieutenants, Phantom, Griffon, Nightmare and Shadow.

Princess Trish was nothing but a pawn for her father’s politics. She knew this. She  _ hated  _ it.

Every day passed much the same for her, locked up in her room with precious little for entertainment. The lieutenants, having been charged to take care of her since her birth, did what they could, but you could only sew so many articles of clothing from spider silk, or draw so many pictures of a sleeping Shadow before it got boring, and Trish was  _ well _ past her limit.

The days blurred together, so Trish couldn’t tell you when it was that she heard the soft pitter-patter of four sets of footsteps outside her room. She  _ could _ tell you what she was doing, which was rereading a novel she was particularly fond of, despite having it memorized almost word-for-word by now. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do; she was out of spider silk, had completely filled up her latest sketchbook, and her weapons were in perfect condition, so there was nothing to take care of there for the time being.

There was a knock on the door. “Princess?” Trish recognized the gravelly, guttural voice as belonging to Phantom.

“Come in.” She didn’t look up from her book, instead turning the page with all the enthusiasm you’d expect from a cooped up demon princess. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful for his presence, but all his visits, along with all the other lieutenants’, were for one of two things. The first was delivering a summons from Mundus. The second was to check on her and actually spend time with her. It went without saying that she preferred the latter.

The door creaked open, eight glowing red eyes focusing on her as the half-arachnid demon entered. “Your father has requested your presence, Your Highness.” It seemed she wasn’t lucky today. Phantom apparently knew of her discomfort, because his tone was apologetic, and his legs twitched with unease.

“And what does dear old father want this time?” Trish drawled, the sarcasm dripping from her words as she pretended to study the page intently. In reality, she was trying to judge whether or not this particular interaction with Mundus would sap all her energy for the day.

“I do not know, my princess,” Phantom responded hesitantly, lowering all four pairs of eyes to the floor. “He has not told me this, but he seems impatient.” A pause, and then the spider whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Trish exhaled a heavy sigh, placing the book to the side and sitting up. “He’s  _ always  _ impatient. Fine, I’ll go see him.”

She felt Phantom’s four gazes on her as she left the room, a strange sensation but one she was used to. She figured the spider was worried for her, as he always was, but Trish said nothing. Either she came back from this interaction feeling like crap, or she didn’t. Of course, knowing how much of an abhorrent being her father was, she was willing to bet on the former.

“Trish.” She stopped as Phantom called her by name, glancing over her shoulder and finally registering the agonizing pain written across her guardian’s face. “He seemed happy.”

Now  _ that  _ piqued her interest. She raised an eyebrow. “He’s  _ never  _ happy.”

“That’s exactly why I’m so concerned.” Phantom came closer, which was slightly intimidating to most considering he was just under seven feet tall, but just like with his gaze, Trish was used to it. “There must be a reason for it. And given he has summoned you, I fear you play a part in whatever scheme he has envisioned.”

Trish groaned as she looked ahead, a hand coming to rest on her hip. “That’s nothing new. My entire existence is for his gain.”

She felt a hand upon her shoulder and blinked, glancing up at Phantom. His lip was caught between his teeth. “As unfortunately true as that is, that doesn’t mean you should have to endure it.”

“What other choice do I have?” Trish countered. “Father dearest would flay me alive if I didn’t obey his sacred word.” An eye roll proved exactly what she thought of this, an action she was well used to.

The look Phantom gave her could only be described as melancholic, and she felt a twinge of guilt in her heart. “I can only wish that wasn’t the case,” he replied, before clearing his throat, switching back to a professional tone. “If it will help you relax, I will have some iced tea sent to your room after your meeting with His Majesty, my princess.”

The faintest ghost of a smile curled across Trish’s expression. These little acts of kindness were Phantom and the other lieutenants’ way of showing that they cared, and honestly, she imagined that she would be even more miserable without them. “That sounds great. Thanks, Phantom.”

Phantom inclined his head, giving her one last long look before scurrying off. Now alone in the castle’s immense hallways, she gritted her teeth and steeled herself for what was to come. It had been a couple of weeks since Mundus had last summoned her, and that was to enlist her help in resolving a border skirmish he didn’t view as worthy of his proper legions. Whatever menial task awaited her, she was sure she wasn’t going to enjoy a second of it.

Trish was well-versed in the layout of the palace and knew all of its secrets and shortcuts, so within minutes, she was emerging into the chapel-esque throne room. Mundus stared down at her as she approached, expression technically neutral, but she could see the boredom and contempt glittering in his three eyes. A knight decked out from head to toe in dark armour stood silently at Mundus’s side. Nelo Angelo. He’d been her father’s champion knight for six years, and still Trish knew nothing about him. What she did know was that she wouldn’t get a reaction out of him, so she turned her attention back to Mundus.

They stood in silence for a moment, staring each other down until Trish felt a sudden stab of pain in her head. As she reached up to cradle her temple, that  _ hated _ voice rang out in her mind.  _ “Where are your manners, Trish?” _

Trish gritted her teeth and went down to one knee, carefully keeping her thoughts empty of the vicious hatred towards her father. A moment later, she felt Mundus's presence retreat from her mind.

“Much better, Trish,” Mundus began, infinite satisfaction in his tone. “You’ll remember next time, won’t you?” Despite the phrasing, it wasn’t a question, but a thinly veiled threat.

“Yes, of course, father.”  _ You can’t kill him, Trish. Not here. Not now.  _ “You wanted to see me?”

At those words, Mundus's lips curved up into a crooked smile. It was sadistic, cruel and without a hint of sincerity, and Trish felt dread settle in the pit of her stomach. “Yes. Trish, you’re going to be getting married.”

She was going to be-  _ what?  _ Trish’s thoughts screeched to a halt as her composure shattered, eyes wide as dinner plates and jaw gaping.  _ “Married? _ To  _ who?  _ Father, you can’t do this!”

_ “Silence!”  _ Mundus's bellow combined with the sudden flare of pain in her temple promptly forced her back into reluctant submission. He leaned forward in his throne, expression stormy. “You do not oppose me, Trish,  _ do you understand?” _

“Ye… yes, father,” Trish gasped, more focused on battling the steadily increasing pain that ran throughout her body. How humiliating. Trish considered herself to be powerful, confident and brave, a badass through and through, yet all it took was her father’s wrath to reduce her to a quivering mess.

Mundus relaxed back into his seat and the pain in her head subsided, though a dull ache remained. A warning, if Trish had to guess. “Good. Now, you’re going to be marrying the prince of the humans, Dante Sparda.”

_ Sparda.  _ Trish knew the name; all demons did. The legendary dark knight had nearly killed her father many years ago. If she was being honest, she wished he’d finished the job. “Sparda has a kid?”

“Yes, with the human queen.” The ambitious gleam in Mundus's eyes had returned, but Trish was mostly trying to process the fact that  _ Sparda had a kid.  _ Talk about being out of the loop. “Do you know what this means, Trish?”

Oh, great. Here was the part where Mundus inevitably started talking about his new plan to conquer the human world, and she could see how marriage could fit into that… if not for the fact it would make  _ her  _ the future ruler of the humans, not her father. “Enlighten me.” It took all her willpower to keep the venom out of her tone.

“If you marry Dante under the guise of peace between our worlds, you will have free and complete access to him,” Mundus explained, sounding almost  _ excited,  _ which was new and  _ very  _ unsettling. “Then, once the humans have accepted you as their princess… you can kill him.”

Yup.

Of course.

What was she expecting.

“I still fail to see how this will gain you control of the human world, father,” Trish pointed out, doing her best to sound casually interested rather than completely dead inside. “Even if I kill Dante, the human queen and… Sparda will still be alive.” She decided not to mention the part where in this plan,  _ she  _ would be the one seizing the throne. With a father like Mundus, she was absolutely certain that the slightest provocation could end up with her dead.

“Ah, but if Dante is dead, there will be panic,” Mundus elaborated, grinning now. It was, without a doubt, the most disturbing thing Trish had ever seen. “No one would suspect the prince’s adoring wife.”

Trish bit back a retort about how it would be hard to fake love for a man she’d never met. Mundus was none the wiser.

“While the human world is in chaos, I can take advantage of that ‘alliance’ and ‘peace’ to invade,” Mundus continued. That  _ was  _ just like her father, playing underhanded and dirty to feed his ambitions. “I will finally be able to rule the human world… and take revenge on that damned Sparda.” His lip curled as he spoke the rebel’s name.

It was a half-decent plan, Trish had to begrudgingly admit, even if she could practically imagine the lightning flashing behind him, eyes glowing as he revealed his evil scheme. Well, whatever. The way she saw it, this whole assassination was a brief escape before she was inevitably locked back up in her room at the end of it all. ‘Rapunzel’ was a story she’d only heard of from Phantom’s mouth, Mundus having forbidden her from reading any of those ‘mushy human fairytales,’ but Trish was pretty sure she could relate to the poor princess, trapped in her tower.

“Fine, father. Consider it done.” Figuring that was the end of the conversation and not wanting to prolong the interaction, Trish rose and turned on her heel, beginning to stride away. Before she could take more than a few steps, however, Mundus called after her.

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that, young lady?”

Trish slowly turned back around, tone irate. “To my room? What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“It is unbecoming of a princess,” Mundus scolded, eyes narrowed. “If I allow you to wear that to meet the prince, they will think it scandalous. Worse, they may believe you to be dressing provocatively on purpose. You will change into something more modest.” It was an order.

Trish rolled her eyes. Her corset lengthened ever so slightly.

Mundus's eyes narrowed further. “Do not play games with me, girl. Besides, I have already had an outfit tailored specifically for the occasion. Unfortunate that it was made by a common spider, but her work will be… acceptable.”

A nondescript soldier emerged from the shadows, handing her a neatly washed and folded bundle of black silk. A brief inspection proved that the article was undoubtedly made by Phantom’s loving wife, Spirit. Trish had never met her or her other husband Spectre, but Phantom spoke of them fondly, regaling her with tales of their honesty and kindness and hard working attitude, and she had commissioned items from Spirit numerous times. This knowledge made Trish’s blood boil in her veins at her father’s insult to the seamstress spider.

She accepted the clothing with a sickeningly fake smile, although it was true that knowing Spirit had woven it made her slightly less reluctant. She then glanced up at Mundus's looming form, wanting nothing more than to get out of here. “Will that be all, father?”

“Yes.” Mundus was back to being his usual dismissive self, not even bothering to look at her, instead gazing out the window. “Shadow and Griffon will come by to escort you to your carriage in an hour, so be ready by then, and don’t make this difficult.”

Of course her father wouldn’t be bothered to go with her to meet the man she’d be marrying (and killing, though she tried not to think on that part too much). Whatever, she preferred the company of the two lieutenants over him anyway. Since he wasn’t looking her way, Trish quickly excused herself and hurried back to her room to take a look at the outfit she was to wear.

She was pleasantly surprised to find she didn’t totally hate it. Trish didn’t wear dresses, but she figured if she did, it would be something like this. Made of a midnight black silk, it was an empire waistline ball gown with a sweetheart neckline, though an opaque fabric had been added to cover her shoulders. Glittering white sequins sparkled across the entirety of the dress like miniature stars.

She’d just finished changing into the dress (it was a strange sensation, but she’d adjust) when there was a knock at the door. “Princess? I’ve brought your iced tea.”

“Phantom.” Trish let out a relieved sigh, grateful for the chance to talk to someone she trusted before departing. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Phantom made his way inside, pausing only to place down the silver tray he was carrying before his eyes fell upon her. Immediately, a beaming smile broke across his expression. “You look beautiful, Trish. Spirit will be ecstatic to hear it.”

“You think so?” She wasn’t one to show off, but she did a little twirl for Phantom’s benefit. “I guess it is kind of nice.”

Phantom gave her a little nod, still smiling, before his expression grew solemn. “If I may ask… what’s the occasion?”

“Meeting my betrothed.” In hindsight, maybe she shouldn’t have said this so casually, as all eight of Phantom’s eyes grew wide.

“Your father… arranged a marriage for you?” ‘Flustered confusion’ was the only way to describe the poor spider right now. “That doesn’t make any sense, His Majesty doesn’t care for love or anything like it, I…” Phantom trailed off, wringing his hands in agitation.

“He wants me to kill the human prince.”

A beat of silence.

“Oh.”

“Yup.”

“That, uh… that makes more sense.” Phantom hesitated, before tentatively asking, “Are you going to do it?”

Trish spread her hands. “What else  _ can  _ I do? You know my father, and it’s not like I have any particular feelings towards the prince.”

“Fair point.” Silence overcame the room. After maybe a minute or two, Phantom broke it. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” At this point, Trish had retrieved Luce and Ombra and was checking over their condition. Pristine, as usual. “You’re not the one using me as an assassin.”

“I know, but please be careful.” Trish glanced up as she sensed Phantom come closer. “I consider you my own daughter, you know.”

Trish… really didn’t know how to respond to that, blinking in surprise. “Well, I think I’m missing the entire spider half, but I’m flattered you think so.”

“I’m serious, Trish,” Phantom insisted. “Your father might treat you as an expendable pawn, but you’re so much more than that to me. There’s a lot of ways that this can go wrong, so please be careful.”

Trish gave him a brief smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t worry. Careful is my middle name.”

Phantom’s eyes narrowed in obvious disbelief, but he didn’t press the issue. “Well then… I look forward to your safe return. Farewell for now, my princess.”

With those words, he turned and scuttled from the room. The door swung shut behind him, leaving Trish alone with the weight of her impending task.

She drew a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

“I’m just saying, princess static, there’s like a hundred ways this could go wrong and only one way for it to go right.” Trish had arrived at the human palace and was going to meet the group sent to escort her, flanked by Griffon and Shadow. Shadow was a quiet presence, and had not spoken a single word since she’d met up with him. Griffon, on the other hand, would be able to convince someone he would die if he  _ stopped  _ talking. “You could just, I dunno, run away from society and never go through with this insane plan? Hell, I’d run away with you, your father sucks anyway.”

“Griffon,” Trish began, tone calm and neutral. “Could you do something for me?”

Griffon let out an aggravated sigh, preening a few crooked feathers. “I take it we’re not running away then? Sure, little lady, what do you need?”

“Could you, please, shut up?”

The tengu made an affronted noise that she was sure would’ve been a squawk if she wasn’t his princess. “Youngins these days, have no appreciation for their elders…”

He trailed off into mutters as they drew nearer to a group of people clustered in front of the palace doors. Most of the escort group were completely nondescript aside from the woman leading them. She had short black hair, strangely mismatched red and blue eyes, and an overall very smug and confident aura.

There was a strange feeling in Trish’s chest as she locked eyes with the woman. She immediately tensed, on guard in case the stranger meant her harm. True, the feeling wasn’t  _ exactly  _ like the gut-wrenching hyper-anxiety she was used to around people she didn’t trust (re: her father) but it made her heart beat quicker than it was supposed to, so it probably wasn’t good, right?

The stranger stepped forward. “Hey, I take it you’re the demon princess? Name’s Lady. Local mercenary and friend of the prince.”

“Trish,” she replied, drawing herself to her full height in an attempt to look intimidating. As soon as she heard Lady was a friend of the prince, she found herself immediately assessing her. Was she going to be a threat? Could Trish take her in a fight? Why did she make her feel so weird? “Princess of Hell.” She shook her head, perfectly groomed hair falling over her shoulders.

Lady squinted at her. Why wasn’t she afraid of Trish? This could be a problem. “Right, so I’ve heard. Queen Eva’s asked me to bring you and your escorts to the dining hall. You’re going to meet Dante there, but knowing him, he’ll have forgotten what day it is and won’t show up for at least another fifteen minutes.”

“Would you look at that, you’re marrying a prince not-so-charming,” Griffon muttered in her ear. “Have fun with that, glad I’m not you.”

Back home, Trish would’ve shocked him. Unfortunately, they were in the presence of humans who probably didn’t see light electrocution as a friendly gesture, so she refrained. “He can take his time, I don’t really care.”

Lady raised an eyebrow at that, glancing her up and down. “For a princess in such a fancy dress, you act more like a soldier than royalty.”

_ There’s a difference?  _ Thankfully, Trish had the presence of mind not to disgrace herself by saying the question outright, instead just raising her eyebrows in return. After a moment, Lady shook her head in amazement. “My god, you really were a soldier, weren’t you.”

“Practically.” Before she could say more on the subject, Griffon jumped in.

“All demons know how to fight, woman, it’s practically a requirement if you don’t wanna be eaten alive.” He preened his feathers again. “Shadow and I here are part of the best four demons alive.”

Trish glared at him.

“Er, five. Five demons. Static shock here has some wicked thorns on her.”

“Really?” Lady tilted her head in a mockery of innocence. “So you’re comparable to the legendary dark knight Sparda?”

Griffon faltered,  _ immediately  _ losing his bravado. “I mean, uh… well… you see…”

“Ignore him,” Trish interjected, winning an indignant squawk from Griffon. She promptly shut him up with a look of  _ hey, I’m sparing whatever pride you have left.  _ “So you’re a friend of the prince?”

Lady shrugged. “Yeah, heard the rumors already? Just for the record, I haven’t slept with your fiance.”

Trish had no idea what that meant, but she was going to pretend like she did. “Good to know, I guess. So where’s this dining hall?”

“This way.” Lady turned and started to walk inside. Trish couldn’t help but notice the sea of servants immediately parted like  _ she  _ was a princess. Did befriending royalty in the human world give you equivalent status, or was she just that scary to these people? Either way, Trish decided to keep Lady in the back of her mind. As far as she was concerned, her list of threats had just increased to two, the other being Sparda himself.

“Hey, you gonna follow her or are you just gonna sit there gawking at her all day?” Trish shook herself out of her thoughts, glaring at Griffon.

“I wasn’t  _ gawking,  _ Griffon, I was  _ observing.”  _ She left it at that, striding after Lady. Her two lieutenants followed behind, Griffon grumbling as always and Shadow as silent as his namesake. The remaining servants filed in after them, though they were careful to keep their distance from the three demons.

Lady stopped outside a pair of grand gilded double doors, peering inside before sighing. “Yep, I was right. I should probably make sure the idiot doesn’t entirely forget to come downstairs.” She turned to Trish and her lieutenants. “Queen Eva and King Sparda are waiting inside. Don’t cause trouble, okay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Trish replied, and with a nod of affirmation, Lady strode off. Trish couldn’t help but glance after her as she went, before focusing back on the doors.

“Ready to meet the legendary dark knight Sparda?” Griffon snarked.

“Not helping, Griffon,” Trish sighed, unconsciously adjusting her dress. Why was she suddenly so off-kilter? Was it because of Lady?

“I’m just saying, the guy nearly made your old man go poof,” Griffon continued, as if oblivious to her plight. “It’s natural to be at least a little afraid! Hey, if we all ran really fast, we could probably escape the situation and never have to worry about it, doesn’t that sound good?”

Trish pushed open the doors.

“Why do you never listen to me?” Griffon complained, still grumbling as they entered the dining hall. Trish had barely stepped into the room when she froze, mouth-watering scents assaulting her senses as she stared at the wide variety of delectable-looking dishes spread across the table, most of which she had never seen before.

Two figures were seated at the head of the table. The white-haired man Trish instinctively understood to be Sparda; if not for the fact that he was the only man in the room, she would’ve guessed this simply from the regal, impressive aura he gave off. Seeing the legendary dark knight in the flesh, even if in a more human form, she understood all at once why he was so feared amongst Hell.

That meant the blonde woman seated to his right had to be Queen Eva. Up until now, Trish had known nothing about the human queen, so her first impression was  _ she looks like me.  _ Their similar appearances were uncanny, but her attention was quickly stolen by the large painting behind the pair of rulers. A family portrait, she figured, seeing Eva and Sparda’s smiling figures in it. Most interesting, however, was the identical boys stood in front of the king and queen. Twins, Trish would guess, but that information immediately made her uneasy. Mundus had only mentioned one son of Sparda. Not to mention one of the boys, the one in red, was stirring something in the depths of her memory...

“You must be Princess Trish.” Eva had made her way to stand in front of Trish, curtsying. The young princess quickly did the same, recognizing this custom at least. “Allow me to extend a warm welcome to you and your companions. I am Queen Eva, and this is my husband, King Sparda. I apologize for our son’s lateness, he has a tendency to forget about these kinds of events.”

“It’s fine.” Trish forced a smile and hoped Queen Eva couldn’t see how obviously fake it was. “After all, marrying him means living with his flaws, right?”

Judging by the soft smile she received in return, Eva was unaware of her insincerity. “Of course, dear, and we’re delighted you’ll be marrying Dante. You seem like a wonderful young woman already.”

“Perhaps you may be able to rein in his rambunctious nature.” Trish furrowed her brows as Sparda came to stand beside his wife. Was he joking? Given the fact he was chuckling, he was probably joking, but that was such a stark contrast to every legend Trish had ever heard about him. This was really the guy who had massacred legions of Hell’s most powerful demons, her father almost included?

Eva laughed, slipping her hand into Sparda’s. Trish couldn’t help but immediately take notice of the action. That was something people who were in love did, right? Would she be expected to hold hands with Dante? The devil had to repress a shudder at the thought. Physical contact with strangers was not for her; hell, she barely allowed the  _ lieutenants  _ to touch her. “I think Lady does a good enough job of that already, darling. Try not to put expectations on Trish, it must be nerve-wracking for her to be marrying someone she’s never met.”

“Of course, my apologies.” Still hand-in-hand with Eva, Sparda returned to the table, beckoning for Trish and her escorts to follow. Trish took a seat near the king and queen, figuring that was polite, but was careful to keep enough of a distance where she could escape if things got messy. Griffon seated himself to her left, and Shadow to her right.

“So, Trish, have you ever tried strawberry trifle?” Sparda asked conversationally, gesturing to a plate of some kind of creamy dessert with small red fruits and giving her a knowing look. “It’s one of my favourites, the head chef is truly a master of his art.”

It took a moment for it to click that Sparda was also from the Underworld. There had been a time in his life where he had never tried any human delicacies, so she figured if he was recommending this ‘strawberry trifle,’ it had to be at least decent. “I’ll give it a try, Your Majesty,” she responded, carefully scooping some of the foreign dessert onto her plate.

Eva watched the interaction with kind eyes. “There’s no need to be so formal, dear,” she reminded, causing Trish to glance over at her. “You’re family now, after all.”

“After the wedding, it’ll be official,” Sparda added, causing Trish’s train of thought to pause, eyebrows furrowing. A wedding? What was that? A human marriage tradition? Demons had no such customs. In Hell, if you wanted to get married, you just said so, and that was that.

Her confusion must have been written on her face, because Eva chuckled gently. “Ah yes, I’d forgotten. Demons don’t have weddings, do they? Sparda was quite baffled when I brought it up to him initially.” At these words, the queen reached out to place her hand over her husband’s, smiling at him with such love and adoration Trish almost felt bad for the pain she was soon going to inflict on the couple.

“We don’t,” Trish confirmed, taking a bite of trifle to cover her emotions. The dish was sweet, sweeter than she was used to, with a soft and crumbly texture. Overall, not half bad. In fact, it was pretty good. If she had been here under more honest circumstances, Trish imagined she could get used to dining on foods such as these. “Mind filling me in?”

“A wedding’s a big ceremony humans tend to insist upon to legalize their marriage,” Sparda explained, giving her a sly wink. “Seems pretty silly, don’t you think?”

“It’s definitely different,” Trish agreed, turning those words over in her mind. Was she… relating to Sparda? Now that was a weird thought. The legendary dark knight had been in her position once, just as lost about the human world and its customs as she was.

Eva gave a fond sigh, eyes twinkling. “This is a bit different to regular weddings, however. A royal wedding is an event that attracts thousands of people from all across the world to watch.”

“What?” Immediately, Trish tensed up, gripping her fork so tightly her knuckles turned white. Thousands of people were going to be at this ‘wedding?’  _ Why had no one told her? _

“Uh oh, things aren’t looking good for you, princess,” Griffon muttered. Trish glared at him out of the corner of her eye, and he promptly shut up.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Eva reassured her quickly, no doubt catching onto her discomfort and near-panic. “The ceremony isn’t scheduled for another week, so you have plenty of time to adjust and get ready.”

“Plus you’ll have time to get used to Dante,” Sparda added, a grin quirking at the edges of his lips. “Trust me, you’ll need it.”

With all the comments Trish had heard about Dante’s behaviour, she really had to wonder about what kind of prince he was. Based on Mundus's expectations of her, she had always assumed that royalty had to behave in a certain way all the time, always polite, punctual and formal, yet Dante seemed to be shattering all those expectations like glass and she hadn’t even  _ met  _ the guy.

Eva was speaking again, and Trish quickly snapped her attention back to focus on her. “Lady’s agreed to help you adjust to things and prepare for the wedding, so there’s nothing to be concerned about. Lady is a dear friend of our family and a wonderful woman, and I’m sure the two of you will get along well.”

Getting along with Lady? Trish wasn’t sure whether or not she agreed. Hell, she barely knew what to make of her in the first place. She had assumed that the mercenary would be a foe, but Eva seemed to think she’d be the opposite. A friend. Could Trish really befriend a human?

( _ “Of course not,”  _ a voice in the back of her head chided.  _ “Everyone here is your foe. Don’t forget.” _ )

The doors suddenly swung open before Trish could respond to Eva’s statement, revealing none other than Lady herself. “Finally found your son, Your Majesties,” she said as a way of greeting, rolling her eyes. “I was right, he forgot what day it was.”

“Hey, cut me some slack, Lady, I seriously thought that was tomorrow and I’ve already had to talk to like ten people today. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?” Dante stepped into the room, a cheerful smile on his face as he bantered with his friend, and Trish  _ froze,  _ memories rushing back.

“We’re not all introverts, Dante,” Lady easily quipped back, before her eyes landed on Trish. “Your Highness, allow me to introduce your fiance, Crown Prince Dante Sparda–”

Dante’s eyes met with Trish’s. A heartbeat later, she saw them widen as recognition sparked in them, and he breathed the same thought that was currently overtaking her brain.

_ “It’s you.” _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mental health is a bitch but here's your second chapter! Thanks to everyone who commented, you literally sustain me and I am a hungry trash gremlin who reads your comments at least once a day (I tend not to respond to comments because I hate how it skews the comment count, but if you have a question or a theory, I'll definitely reply!) as the comments give me the /motivation/ to kick depression in the teeth.

_ The rain fell to the ground in heavy sheets, earth-shaking thunder booming as lightning split the sky overhead. The putrid scent of blood and death permeated the air, a sea of human corpses and shattered weapons the only sign of the dreadful battle that had just taken place. Mundus’s armies had swarmed out of the Underworld in force, only to be driven back; but at what cost? _

_ Not a single surviving soul could be found on the battlefield. None, that is, except for a small devil, only thirteen years of age. In the stampede to flee and return to safety, no one had taken notice of her, trapped underneath a fallen pillar. _

_ It had saved her life initially, shielding her from view of the humans, but now it threatened to be her doom. While demons normally had a healing factor so efficient injuries didn’t matter, that factor was rendered useless when the wound couldn’t close. _

_ Needless to say, the blood pouring from the demon’s broken legs did not qualify for instant healing when the pillar was still crushing them. Panic swelled within her as she desperately tried to free herself, but the more she struggled, the more she got stuck. _

_ Trish, the youthful princess of Hell, had always been taught fear was a weakness. That if she wasn’t strong, she didn’t deserve to survive. _

_ Trish knew that she didn’t deserve to live, as she was the one who had gotten herself into this mess. She only wished that she’d died honorably in the fight, rather than here, alone, cold, soaking wet and humiliatingly afraid. _

_ “Is anyone there?” she called out weakly, despite knowing it was a futile attempt. Sure enough, nothing but a resounding silence answered her, and she ducked her head, shivering. Thirteen was too young to die. _

_ “I don’t want to die,” Trish whispered, her voice cracked. She felt something wet trickle down her cheeks, and her gut wrenched with fear. The pillar sheltered her from the rain; there was no reason for this to be happening. Was it blood? No, wrong colour, and… strangely salty. What the hell was happening to her? She had to be dying. _

_ She squeezed her eyes shut, curled into fetal position as best she could, and awaited the end. _

_ For the rest of her life, Trish would consider what happened to her next a miracle. Out of nowhere, there was a grunting noise, and suddenly the pressure was being lifted from her legs, followed by a boyish voice asking, “Hey, are you alright?” _

_ Trish cracked her eyes open. A boy, maybe a couple years older than she was, was stood over her, clad in mostly red and a coat that was just slightly too big for him. His breath came out in pants, no doubt overexerted from moving the pillar to free her. His rain-soaked hair was plastered to his face, a mystical white in colour and framing sparkling blue eyes. _

_ She… She was alive. That fact took a moment to process. She was alive, saved by this mysterious boy. _

_ She couldn’t find the words to respond, her gaze instead drifting to her legs. Now unobstructed, her healing factor was quick to kick in, broken bones snapping back into place and bleeding skin sewing itself back together as though with invisible thread. Within seconds, her body was as good as new. _

_ The boy followed her gaze, no doubt seeing the same phenomenon. “You’re a demon,” he realized, glancing back at her face. “Aren’t you?” _

_ Trish remained silent. He was going to kill her now that he knew what she was, so maybe it was too early to be celebrating. Sure, with her demonic abilities it wouldn’t be hard to escape, but she wasn’t thinking straight, still in shock from her brush with death. _

_ “Not much of a talker, huh?” The boy shook his head, before scrutinizing her face. “Well, one thing’s for sure, and that’s that you’re way too young for me to kill you, demon or not.” _

_ What? _

_ “Plus, it would be in poor taste, after I just saved you.” He extended a hand to her, and she stared at it blankly. “Come on, princess, up you go.” _

_ Finally registering that she was  _ safe,  _ that he wasn’t going to kill her, Trish hesitantly reached out to take his hand. As he pulled her up from the ground, her heel caught on a plant root, causing her to tumble forwards. Immediately, her saviour wrapped his arms around her, steadying them both. _

_ There was a moment of silence as they both processed what had just happened, then Trish flushed the approximate colour of a tomato, and she pulled back to stare up at the stranger’s grinning face.  _

_ “Hey, I know falling in love with your heroic knight is a fairytale cliche and all that, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon,” he joked, but his smile quickly faltered at her complete non-reaction. “Hey, are you okay?” _

_ Trish found she could only muster up the energy for one word. “No.” _

_ She saw something new take over his expression, something she remembered seeing on Phantom’s face when she’d ran back to her room after her father had screamed at her for breaking one of the numerous demon skulls in the trophy room. It had been an accident, but she remembered the threats and the pain well. That’s when she’d understood she had to be perfect, or else. _

_ “I’m going to bring you back to the Hellgate, okay?” the boy murmured, behaviour entirely shifting as he slung one of her arms around his shoulders, supporting her. Trish was too tired and shocked to protest. “Here’s hoping we don’t meet again. I don’t want to have to…” _

_ He trailed off, but Trish knew what he meant. He didn’t want to have to kill her. Well, she didn’t want to have to kill him either. Dare she say she cared, over such a small interaction? Though she  _ did  _ owe her life to him… _

_ “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Yeah. I get it.” _

_ The stranger said nothing else, surprisingly, instead just fixing her with a sorrowful look. He brought her back to the Hellgate, as promised, bidding her a quick farewell before disappearing into the quickly approaching night. _

_ Mundus never even noticed she didn’t return with the others. _

* * *

“Am I missing something?” Lady shattered the silence, Trish and Dante both turning from each other to look at her. Her eyebrows were raised as high as they could go as she looked between the two of them. “You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I–” Trish and Dante began to speak at the same time, stopping to stare at each other. Trish could feel her heart beating at a million miles per hour, which  _ definitely _ wasn’t healthy. Dante. The boy who had saved her thirteen years ago was Dante. The one who had seen her at her weakest moment, who even now caused a strange, fluttery feeling in her chest when she looked back on the incident — he was  _ Dante.  _ Dante Sparda, Crown Prince of the humans.

Trish didn’t know how the hell to quantify her feelings for Dante, endlessly confused by them, but what she  _ did  _ know was that somehow, it felt like fate had played exactly into her hands.

Luce and Ombra suddenly felt burning hot and heavy, their concealed weight against her leg reminding her of the task she’d been assigned. Kill Dante. She wasn’t here to marry him, not really; she was here to secure her father’s reign over humanity.

She’d been so confident in her ability to successfully complete her mission. Now, all that was thrown into doubt. She owed Dante  _ her life.  _ He had saved her, a demon, when Mundus hadn’t even noticed that she’d disappeared. Dante had cared for her, a complete stranger and  _ the enemy _ to boot,  _ more than her own father had over the course of her entire life. _

She was at a crossroads. Did she kill Dante and live with the guilt forever… or did she defy Mundus, and risk her own life in doing so?

Dante’s eyes were still wide as he stared at her. Trish didn’t know what to call a lot of feelings, mostly familiar with  _ anger, contempt, frustration, fear, boredom  _ and  _ pain,  _ but what glimmered in his gaze was far from any of those. Wonder, if Trish had to put a name to it, amazement. Not negative, at least, of that much she was certain. Could she really kill the light in those gleaming blue eyes?

...Ha. Who was she kidding?

She wasn’t going to do it. She’d deal with the consequences of that later.

“Dante? Trish?” She snapped out of her reverie, turning to face Eva at the same time as Dante. Staring wasn’t exactly how Trish would put it, but the queen was definitely looking at them with an expression of mixed concern and confusion. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yeah, I…” Dante was the first to find his voice again, swallowing as he looked back at Trish. “I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting this.”

Trish discovered she had been wrong about how high Lady’s eyebrows could go as the mercenary stepped into the conversation again. “Expecting what, Dante? If you’d like to fill us in, it’d be appreciated.”

Trish glanced at her lieutenants out of the corner of her eye. Griffon was openly gawking at her as well, for once seemingly at a loss for words. That made sense, given she’d never told anyone except for Phantom about her rescue by the mysterious stranger. Shadow’s face, meanwhile, was as neutral as ever, though she couldn’t help but note that his ears were slightly more alert than usual.

“Let’s not talk about it for now,” Trish interrupted, gathering very different responses from the various occupants of the room. Dante shot her a look of relief, while Lady’s was of suspicion. Eva was clearly concerned, while Sparda’s expression bore curiosity mingled with worry.

“What the hell do you mean ‘let’s not talk about it?’” Griffon, meanwhile, seemed flabbergasted. His beak opened and closed several times. “Seems like pretty important stuff, princess!”

Trish forced a strained smile. She loved Griffon, she really did. However, this was  _ not the time  _ for his theatrics and she wished he would understand that. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it when Dante and I have gotten a chance to talk it out ourselves,” she replied, careful to remain polite and composed. She stole a glance at Dante as she added, “Our memories of the event may have eroded with time. I would prefer to ensure you all get as accurate an explanation as possible.”

“I see no issue with this, if you are sure nothing’s wrong,” Eva ventured cautiously. Trish gave a little nod, and she seemed to relax. “Very well then. We will not press the issue.”

Silence dawned upon the room. Despite Eva’s words, the conversation was dead and tension was high. Dante took a seat to his mother’s right, and Lady sat down beside him. Trish took a moment to note that none of the royals bat an eyelid at the commoner joining them, before turning her attention to some kind of fried fish. Anything to avoid awkward eye contact.

A minute or two passed before Dante cleared his throat. Trish didn’t look up at him. “So uh… eventful day, huh?”

“I’d say,” she heard Lady comment. “What was it you said? You had to talk to ‘like ten people’ today?” There was an unmistakable teasing note in her voice.

“Hey, life of a royal isn’t easy, Lady,” Dante quipped back. Finishing off her portion of fish, Trish moved on to a small bowl of soup, though she kept her ears open to the conversation. “You wanna swap for a day? I’d love to be out fighting demons instead of–”

“Dante, manners,” Eva scolded. Glancing up, Trish saw that Dante had pointed his fork at Lady in the middle of their banter. “We are in the company of guests.”

“Your mother’s right, the fact you’ll be marrying Trish isn’t an excuse to act like a bear raised in a barn,” Sparda agreed, giving his wife another sappy, lovestruck look.

Trish thought about mentioning she didn’t really mind, but figured that ‘royal manners’ were for more than her benefit.

“Right, sorry, Mom,” Dante apologized, placing his fork beside his plate before turning back to Lady. “Like I was saying, I’d rather be out fighting demons than attending royal ceremonies and events all day.”

“Thanks for your generous offer, but I’m good.” Lady took a moment to chew and swallow a bite of chicken before continuing. “Anyway, I’d be careful with the smack talk of demons. Your demonic wife’s right there, after all.”

“Hey, she’s one of the cool ones!” Dante protested, before his face quickly grew as red as his coat as the statement sunk in.  _ “And she’s not my wife yet!” _

“In a week, she will be,” Lady quipped. Trish was about to sample some clams when the mercenary suddenly turned to her. “Speaking of the wedding, there’s quite a bit of preparation to do. Ideally, this would’ve been done ages ago, but under the circumstances…” She gave a frustrated sigh, shaking her head. “Nevermind. Anyway, you’ve got the rest of the evening and all of tomorrow to adjust to life here, and then we’ve got to get you fitted for a dress.”

“Woah, Lady, slow down!” Dante protested before Trish could say anything. “Don’t you think you’re overwhelming her?”

Lady raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ve given her as much leeway as possible. The time frame is tight, and I’ve got to work with it. Or do you want your wedding to be a disaster?”

“Well, no, but–”

Trish raised a hand to stop the bickering. “One day is fine,” she declared, despite the fact she definitely didn’t believe that. She could feel her soul withering at the prospect of adjusting to human life in a day. “I understand how it is.” That much, at least, was true.

“I’m glad you understand, dear.” Eva spoke up, flashing Trish a reassuring smile. It didn’t help much, but she was grateful for the sentiment. “We would’ve given you more time, but your father was quite insistent on the ceremony being held as soon as possible.”

_ More like he was insistent on me killing Dante as soon as possible.  _ In other words, Trish was entirely unsurprised by this revelation. “I’m used to strict deadlines with my father,” she answered simply. “It’s no problem.”

She couldn’t wait to defy Mundus for once in her life. Dante had protected her once before, he’d probably do it again, and even though she didn’t know them very well yet, Trish was willing to bet that the rest of his family would defend her as well.

“Tough love, huh?” Lady’s tone was bitter, Trish noted with interest. “That’s what it sounds like, anyway.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Trish agreed. Of course, what Mundus felt towards her was anything  _ but  _ love, but she got the implication that Lady didn’t really mean that part of it.

“Hey, don’t worry about him,” Dante injected, waving a hand. “You’re living here with us now, and we’re pretty cool. Mom and Dad have a few rules—okay, a lot of rules—but honestly? They’re super chill. Love ‘em.”

“We’re glad you think so, Dante, we do our best,” Eva chuckled, sharing a smile with Sparda and giving his hand a squeeze. “But he’s right, Trish. I imagine it can’t be easy for you to be taken out of your home environment, so we want to do our best to accept you as warmly as possible.”

“Besides, we already consider you family,” Sparda chimed in. “No offense, but I get the idea having Mundus for a father isn’t the most pleasant experience.”

Oh, that was putting it lightly. “Trust me, I already feel more welcomed here than I ever did at home,” she replied, and– why were they all looking at her with concern?

“Are you… okay?” Dante asked after a moment.

“Just fine. Why do you ask?”

The Spardas and Lady all shared a look. “We’re just worried about you, dear,” Eva explained. “It’s not a good thing when you feel better in a foreign environment than at home.”

“Oh.” Trish chewed on the inside of her lip, contemplating her clams. “Well, really, it’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine, seriously.”

“If you say so,” Eva replied, hesitance obvious in her tone. “But if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask, dear.”

Trish glanced up, scanning the faces of the room’s occupants. Eva, Sparda, Dante, even Lady were all looking at her with expressions of earnest. Unbidden, she felt a tiny smile touch her lips.

“I won’t be. Don’t worry.”

So this was what safety felt like.

* * *

Dante’s thoughts were whirling as he stepped into his bedroom, flopping onto his bed with an unceremonious sigh. Man, today had been one  _ hell  _ of a day. He’d been kind of ‘whatever’ when his parents had approached him with the proposal of marriage, but he could never have anticipated  _ this. _

“Trish, huh?” he muttered to himself, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Never thought I would see you again.”

“So you  _ do  _ know her.” Heart skipping a beat, Dante jolted upright and turned to look at the source of the voice. Lady was standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed and a hand on her hip. “I was wondering what was up between you two.”

“Lady!” He placed a hand to his chest, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. “You scared the crap out of me. Knock next time, why don’t ya?”

Lady’s eyes narrowed further, door swinging shut behind her as she entered properly. Well, nowhere to run now, unless he squeezed out the window. Actually, that didn’t sound like a terrible idea. “Dante, you know the  _ demon princess.  _ I think I have a right to be concerned.”

Ah, shit, she had a point. “Okay, in my defense, I didn’t  _ know  _ she was the demon princess,” he shot back, spreading his arms in a helpless gesture. “And what was I supposed to do, kill her? She was, like,  _ thirteen  _ for Dad’s sake!”

Lady’s eyebrows shot straight up as she leaned against one of the bed posters. “You met the demon princess at thirteen?”

“Yeah, she was trapped under a pillar in the rain and bleeding out after a huge battle, I had to help her!” Dante explained, rambling faster and faster in his desperation. “The really big battle thirteen years ago, by the forest, you remember it?”

“I recall.” Lady’s lip curled. “Some of my best friends died in that battle.”

Oooh, he’d forgotten about that. Awk-ward. He coughed nervously, averting his gaze. “Look, Lady, she was still a kid, we both were. I couldn’t do it. And like I said, I didn’t know she was the princess, I thought she was just some random demon.”

For several long moments, Lady was silent, and Dante feared she was still bitter. Then she sighed, shifting her weight and shaking her head. “Only you, huh, Dante? You have such a good heart. You wouldn’t be you without it.”

“Thanks, I think?” Dante blinked at the sudden compliment, then his brain fully processed it. “Wait, yeah, of course! Your local hero Dante, right here, saving demon kids in distress and kicking the asses of the big, mean ones.” He flexed.

Lady gave him an utterly unimpressed look. “Regardless, you’re going to be marrying her. Now that she isn’t just some random princess, you’re going to have to talk to her.”

It was Dante’s turn to sigh, flopping back down onto the pillows as his bravado fell away. “Yeah, I know. Still, doesn’t mean it’s gonna be easy.” He’d literally insinuated that if he saw her again, he’d kill her. Needless to say, ‘marry’ was a far cry from ‘kill.’

“Nothing’s easy for you, Dante.” Lady sat down on the bed, swinging one leg over the other and leaning back on her palms. “Doesn’t mean you can say no, though. Your parents gave you an out and you refused it; now, you live with the consequences.”

“I mean, is it really a consequence?” Lady glanced over at him and he shrugged. “I mean, she’s cute, seems pretty nice. We have history. Just dunno what to make of her, really.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that. She’s a mystery,” Lady agreed. She rolled her shoulders before continuing. “Honestly, I want to do a little digging. But, since she’s your fiancee, I’ll refrain, assuming she has your vote of confidence.” She was silent for a moment. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Dante didn’t really think before he answered. “Yeah, she does.”

“Then that’s good enough for me.” Lady stood, prompting Dante to sit back up as well.

“Hey, where are you going?” he asked, causing her to pause and look back at him with an amused glint in her eyes.

“One of my contacts promised me some juicy info.” She smirked at him, placing her hands on her hips playfully. “You don’t expect me to pass that up, do you?”

“Nah, guess not,” Dante conceded, falling back and letting his eyes shut. Damn, he could really use a nap…

“Dante!” Ah, but judging by the very familiar tone of Lady’s voice, he wasn’t getting one. He opened his eyes again and directed a pout her way, which she completed ignored. Rude. “Trish is going to be very busy over the next week, so if you’re going to talk to her, your best shot is tonight.”

_ Fuck,  _ why did she have to be right? He threw an arm over his face as he thought about it. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do it in like… an hour?” He yawned. “Tell one of the servants to wake me up then, I’m going to take a nap. Besides,” he added before Lady could protest, “it’ll give her some time to get used to the palace. I mean seriously, how similar can Hell’s decor really be?”

“Fine.” Lady didn’t sound entirely satisfied, but hey, you couldn’t agree all the time, right? “But I’ll hold you to that, Dante. Don’t let me hear about you chickening out.”

He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about me. Go on, don’t you got some ‘juicy info’ waiting for you?”

“Alright, I’ll get out of your hair,” Lady replied, and he noted the traces of amusement in her tone. A pause, and then, “Rest well, Dante.”

He heard the sound of the door shutting and smiled. “Yeah, think I will,” he muttered to himself, before rolling over and immediately passing out.

* * *

The first thing Trish noted about the royal quarters of the palace was that there was a  _ lot  _ of security. The hallway was lined with guards, all alert and ready for action at a moment’s notice.

Now, coming from Hell, the presence of guards was something Trish was used to. Soldiers patrolled the palace night and day, which made sense, given how rife with conflict the Underworld was. However, this exceeded even the amount of security back home, which baffled her. She was under the impression the human world was safer and far more peaceful than the Underworld — had she been wrong?

“Damn, are they preparing for a war or something?” Griffon had apparently noticed it too, cackling. “I haven’t seen this much security since right after Sparda and His Majesty had their little duel!”

“It was hardly a little duel, Griffon,” Trish replied tersely, unable to help being on edge. Even if she was there to marry their prince, she couldn’t help but notice how the guards’ eyes followed every movement she made. It was evident that they’d likely attack at the slightest provocation, and Trish hardly trusted herself at the moment. Once again, Luce and Ombra felt heavy against her leg.

The walk to her new quarters felt long and arduous, even more so when Griffon and Shadow split off from her. Eventually, the servant leading her came to a stop in front of a gilded door, turning to Trish and curtsying. “These will be your quarters for now, Yo-Your Highness,” she explained, wringing her hands subtly. She wouldn’t look Trish in the eyes. “I-If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, a-and have a good evening!”

The servant didn’t stick around long, scurrying away the first chance she got. Fair enough, Trish figured; not only was she a devil, she was the daughter of the most feared king in all of Hell’s history. It made sense regular humans would have no desire to prolong their interactions with her.

Stepping inside her quarters, Trish found herself frozen, eyes wide. This was really her room? It was so…  _ big,  _ gigantic compared to the tiny little thing she’d had in the Underworld. Red and purple wallpaper covered in intricate golden designs was plastered across all four walls, silk curtains blocking the window. A king-sized four-poster canopy bed was pushed up against the front wall, neatly made and the veritable array of fancy pillows perfectly fluffed. There was also a walk-in wardrobe, a writing desk, and several drawers so large Trish couldn’t imagine ever filling them all.

Trish slowly walked over to the window, pulling aside the curtains. Pale moonlight filtered through the window, basking the room in its soft glow. Peering outside, the landscape proved itself to be a beautiful arrangement of forest and mountains. To any other royal, this would be an everyday spectacle, but for Trish, who had always been trapped inside a cramped room without so much as a window, it was ethereal. For the first time in her life, Trish truly felt like a princess.

Spotting another door off to the side, Trish allowed her feet to guide her inside, an almost childish curiosity getting the best of her. Inside, she recognized she was in what was unmistakably a bathroom, but far grander and fancier than anything she’d ever seen before. Back home, the bathrooms she was used to were cramped rooms, just big enough to fit a shower and a toilet, damp and dingy. This room was at least ten times the size of that, with a pristine mirror above the sink to her right, drawers underneath the sink already stocked with toiletries. Every single faucet in the room was gold, and she couldn’t help but note the bathtub (she’d never seen a bathtub before, but she knew what they were, at least) was big enough to fit three people.

Several colorful bottles along the rim of the bathtub caught Trish’s attention. Curiosity compelled her to step closer to inspect them, finding that they were mostly shampoos, conditioners, and various soaps and body washes. What maintained her interest, however, were several bottles, marked as ‘bath salts’ and, more simply in some cases, ‘bubble bath.’ How curious. Humans added unnecessary chemicals to the water to enhance their bathing experience? It seemed pointless to Trish, though she supposed there was no harm in trying it. Perhaps there was something special she didn’t know about it.

It didn’t take her long to fill the bathtub, pouring in some of the mixture labelled ‘bubble bath’ as she did so. The liquid quickly took on its intended effect, and Trish was fascinated to see the bubbles begin to form. A childlike wonder permeated her sense of being, something she hadn’t felt in over a decade.

Part of Trish was relieved to escape the trappings of the dress she had been wearing, though she still took care to neatly fold it and put it aside before stepping into the bathtub. The warm water rushing over her skin immediately washed away some of the day’s tension that she hadn’t noticed she’d been carrying around, and she couldn’t help but let out a blissed sigh, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. The bubbles, she found, only added to the relaxed atmosphere, and she figured that she’d never be able to go back to her regular showers ever again.

Her thoughts drifted as she carefully lathered her hair in shampoo (even though her demonic power ensured it’d never get tangled, that was no excuse to not take care of it). For the most part, it was Dante who was on her mind, although Lady crept into her thoughts unbidden more than a few times. Dante made sense; he was due to marry her at the end of the week, after all, but Lady proved trickier to understand why she was haunting Trish’s thoughts. As far as she could tell, the mercenary had no business occupying so much of her attention.

Finishing her bath in a slightly perturbed state but nonetheless much more relaxed, Trish immediately selected the fluffiest towel she could find to dry off with, wringing her hair as well. If only her hair-related powers extended to immediately drying it once she was done washing it. She spared a glance at the dress before deciding that she’d already made her first impression, instead summoning her more casual corset, pants, boots and choker. Much better. Not only was this more comfortable, Trish also felt a lot more like  _ herself. _

No sooner than Trish had walked back out into the main bedroom did she hear a knock on her door. Trish raised an eyebrow, wondering who could possibly want to talk to her, before figuring that it was probably Shadow or Griffon. More than likely Griffon, as Shadow was  _ far  _ from talkative.

To her surprise, when she opened the door, the figure standing outside was definitely  _ not  _ either of her lieutenants. Clad in striking red with mystical white hair obscuring light blue eyes, the one in front of Trish would be hard to mistake.

Dante’s mouth had been open to speak, but whatever he’d been about to say died on his tongue as he openly stared at her new attire. “Wow. Trish, you look…” He seemed to be struggling to find the words.

She smirked. “Ravishing?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Dante agreed, his tone almost dazed, before he suddenly snapped back to his senses and shook his head, cheeks colouring. Trish couldn’t help but feel satisfied that this look seemed to have left more of an impression on Dante than the fancy dress. Take that, Mundus. “Erm, anyway. So, I wanted to talk.”

“Talk?” Trish raised an eyebrow. “What is there to talk about, Dante?” Okay, truthfully, there were  _ plenty  _ of things they needed to talk about, and Trish knew it. That didn’t mean she  _ wanted _ to talk about them right now.

“Lady said…” Dante gave a frustrated sigh. Seemed like his inability to speak could only be partially attributed to her beauty (hey, Trish was confident in her body). “God, this is impossible. Hey, look, how’s this; we meet up tomorrow morning before breakfast and talk about this then. That way, we both get a chance to figure out what the hell we’re even going to say. Sound good?”

“You can’t expect me to agree when I don’t even know what you want to talk to me about.” Trish’s hands found their way to her hips, giving Dante an expectant look.

Dante’s palm slapped his forehead. “Right, knew I was forgetting something. Uh, Lady wanted me to talk to you about the wedding.”

That was probably true, but Trish knew it wasn’t what  _ Dante  _ wanted to talk about. She didn’t call it out. “Fine by me.”

“Great, well, uh, I’ll leave you to get some rest then.” Dante backed up a few steps. He was silent for several long, awkward seconds, before he coughed and quietly added, “Hey, have sweet dreams, alright? Would kinda suck for my family’s reputation if you had a horrible nightmare your first night sleeping in our palace.”

Trish blinked in surprise, then her expression softened. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to damage that precious reputation by something as major and definitely within your control as a nightmare.”

Dante laughed. It was a small and stilted thing, but even Trish could tell it was genuine. “Exactly. You get me.” A pause, before he made finger guns. “Well, I’ll just… catch you later then.” He briskly strode away before she got a chance to reply, leaving her shaking her head and huffing in amusement.

“Woah, princess static, we came to check on ya, didn’t expect to see ya flirting with Prince Red Riding Coat there.” Trish turned her head to find Griffon approaching, flanked by Shadow. She smiled despite her exasperation.

“I wasn’t flirting with him, Griffon.” She glanced after where Dante had gone. “We were just making some plans for tomorrow.”

Griffon squinted at her. “Plans, huh? Alright, little lady, just don’t do anything I wouldn’t–” His words were cut off by an indignant squawk as without looking, Trish reached back to smack him on the arm. “Hey, what was that for?!”

“It’s not like that, Griffon,” Trish replied, finally turning back to her two lieutenants. “We’re just…” They weren’t friends. “...acquaintances who’re arranged to marry each other. Nothing more. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot to talk about.” 

“You were smiling.” Trish nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard the low tone of Shadow’s voice. The shapeshifter was gazing at her with an impassive expression, and if she hadn’t been close to him her whole life, she might have missed his evident curiosity.

“He’s amusing,” was the best explanation Trish could come up with, though even she knew that wasn’t entirely right. “I’m going to be marrying him anyway, so I may as well be able to smile at him.”

“Well, it’s a damn nicer sight than seeing you constantly brooding and depressed in your room in Hell,” Griffon conceded. Trish shot him a look. “What? I’m just speaking the truth!”

Trish shook her head. “You are absolutely impossible, Griffon.” The tengu opened his beak to respond, but before he could, she added, “I’m glad you’re both here.”

Griffon snapped his beak shut, shaking his feathers out as he searched for a response. “Of course you are, we’re a delight to be around,” he finally settled on, though Trish couldn’t help but notice it lacked its usual affectionate bite. Seemed she’d really caught him off guard with her comment. “Right, well. We came to check that you’re not dead, and you’re evidently alive and kicking, so we’ll just be on our way. We’re tired after today’s bullshit.” He gave an extremely exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms.

Trish rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure you are. Go on, go get some rest, I’m not gonna die by dawn.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, it’d kinda suck and I  _ don’t  _ want to have to explain to your father that you got killed on your first night here.” He turned and began to walk away, Shadow following. “Sweet dreams, static shock!”

“You too, you idiotic bird,” Trish murmured under her breath, smiling.


End file.
